


How Should I Greet Thee?

by thinlizzy2



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon AU - Agents of SHIELD Team Formed Differently/Not Formed, Canon character death (offscreen), F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/pseuds/thinlizzy2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the loss of Phil Coulson, Melinda May feels like her own life has lost all meaning.  But a former lover could bring both a new mission and a new purpose, if Melinda is willing to accept them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Should I Greet Thee?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scrollgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrollgirl/gifts).



Melinda May had found it disproportionately difficult to pack away the last of Phil Coulson's things. It wasn't the items themselves - the deliberately bland ties, the ridiculous trading cards - but that they were all that she had left of him. She had lost many, many people in her life, but Phil had been a constant, a rare friend and confidant that she still couldn't really imagine being without. Sealing up that final box made it all real, and after it was done she realised that, as impossible as it might seem, her reality had just become even more empty.

So when the knock at the door came, the intrusion felt almost obscene. She was tempted to ignore it but she knew that someone, most likely Hill or Fury, had ordered a watch on her. Any sign of instability at the moment and they'd have her in front of a psychiatric panel before she knew it. So she heaved herself to her feet with a sigh and called out for whoever it was to enter.

She regretted it immediately. A psych panel would be positively delightful compared to this.

Natasha Romanov strode through the kitchen to the doorway of the room that, up until a few days ago, had belonged to one of the most important people in Melinda's life. Natasha's movements were controlled and careful, like she was negotiating a minefield. "Hello Melinda. May I come in?"

"You're already in." Melinda couldn't help pointing it out. 

Natasha rolled her eyes, a gesture of exasperation that Melinda had once found so endearing. "So I am. Can I sit down then?"

Melinda waved a hand at the sofa and Natasha settled herself in. She gave every impression of being at ease, but Melinda knew better. The angle of her shoulders, the subtle movement of her left foot - Natasha was nervous.

Good.

"How was the funeral?" Natasha asked. "Clint and I were sorry not to make it. It was just… well… the world was ending."

"It was sad. It was long and sad and now it's over. Any further questions?" Melinda had no idea what was going on, but she couldn't have been less interested in sitting around and chatting with Natasha like they were old friends.

They had been many things to each other, but never friends.

The Black Widow laughed, a humorless sound. "You know, I'm the one who should be angry here. At you _and_ Coulson. You dumped me for him, Melinda. You broke my heart. And yet I'm here to pay my condolences."

"I didn't _dump_ you-" Melinda made herself stop. There was no point. "That's why you're here? Really? To say how sorry you are for my loss?"

"No," Natasha admitted. "I've got a business proposal for you."

""You're a bit late," Melinda informed her. "Fury and I settled everything. I've got a two week bereavement leave coming up, and then there's a job in admin waiting for me."

This time Natasha's laughter genuinely was amused. "You and Fury didn't decide shit. You told him what you want, or what you say you want, and he looked at you for what I can only imagine was a really uncomfortable length of time. Then you left, and he called me. That, Melinda, is why I'm here."

"You're doing career counselling now? You've come to discuss my bright and shining future?"

"I've come to discuss _them_." Natasha reached into her satchel and withdrew a handful of documents, tossing them onto the coffee table. "Take a look."

Melinda picked up the papers. Smiling faces looked up at her, brimming with potential. "They're just kids."

Natasha got up to peer over her shoulder. "Whiz kids. Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. Got through the Academy in _one year_. As far as I can tell he's got designs that can get us to Mars and she's doing research that could end up resulting in cures for pretty much everything."

"So you want me to do what? Requisition them some lab space? " She reached for the next dossier; another equally young woman peered out of the photo. 

"That's Mary Sue Poots. Or Skye. Apparently she goes by Skye. Which, with a name like Mary Sue Poots, I probably would do too. She's some kind of computer genius. She might need a bit of persuasion to sign up, but I'm sure it's nothing you couldn't manage, дорогая."

"I'm out of the persuasion business. And don't call me that." Melinda could feel her cheeks flaming. The old endearment - дорогая, _sweetheart_ \- brought back so many memories. Natasha screaming it out at the moment of climax or whispering it first thing in the morning when Melinda woke her up with kisses. She shook her head to clear it. What kind of head game was Natasha playing?

Natasha smirked; she knew she'd scored a point. She also knew better than to push it, so she pulled out two more files. "Potential specialists. Triplett and Ward. I'm not sure which is better, so take your pick. Keep in mind, we only need one."

"Specialists? My pick? You're assembling a team?" Melinda stared at Natasha. "What, you expect me to _lead_ these children?"

Natasha shrugged. "Co-lead. If I can't do it alone, there's no reason to expect you to."

It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. Once it did, it took every ounce of the control Melinda had spent her life accumulating not to lose her temper in a very dangerous way. As it was, she couldn't keep the anger out of her voice. "Seriously? Phil's _dead_ , Natasha. He was the last friend I had and he's gone. And so you just come in here and dangle your dream team in front of me and you think that'll get me back out into the field? Why would you possibly think this would work, and why do you even care what happens to me?"

The moment the words were out, she regretted them. By asking, she'd given Natasha permission to answer, and there was no way she was going to pass that up.

"I still love you, that's why!" And there it was. Melinda would have given anything not to hear this, but she knew it would be impossible to make Natasha stop. Natasha's anger was at least a match for Melinda's, and it was out in the open now. 

Natasha went on. "I know what happened… that day, but I don't know why you think it would change anything about how I feel. And I don't know why you left or why you suddenly decided Coulson was the only one you could talk to. But I know that now that he's gone I'm more scared for you than ever, and I know that if I let you bury yourself in the admin department it'll only be a matter of time before I'm burying you in the ground." The tears on the Russian woman's face were even more of a shock to Melinda than her words; as a rule, Natasha Romanov did not cry. "It'll kill you, дорогая, and that'll kill me."

The silence that followed Natasha's tirade filled up the space between them like a corporeal thing. It threatened to suck all the air from the room, until Melinda just had to speak to prevent suffocating. "I just don't know. I don't even know what to say."

"Say you'll think about it." Natasha put the documents back into her bag and tossed the satchel onto the bed. "And then, really do think about it. Please Melinda."

She was halfway to the door before Melinda called after her. "Natasha?"

"да?"

Slowly, wondering if she was making a big mistake, Melinda picked up the bag and gave it back to her. "This was Phil's room. Mine's down the hall. You might want to put this in there. If you leave it here, it'll probably end up going out with Phil's stuff."

Surprise filled Natasha's face, followed by hope. "You didn't share a bedroom?"

"Never." Melinda could give her this; she owed her that much. "I told you. It wasn't like that. He was only my friend."

Natasha nodded slowly, and took the bag to Melinda's room. For a moment, Melinda considered following her in there. It was all so easy to imagine, Natasha's breasts filling up her hands, the delicate taste of the skin of her neck, the warmth of her body pressing and sliding against Melinda's. But then Natasha reappeared with a slight smile on her face.

"That really is your room, isn't it? I could tell by all the weapons."

"I told you." Melinda avoided eye contact. She was pretty sure that Natasha could guess what she had been thinking about. She had always been good at that.

Natasha took Melinda's hands, and Melinda couldn't make herself pull away. "Please listen. Don't say anything; just hear me out. No matter what, you did leave me and go to Coulson. Those are facts. And I don't understand what he was able to offer you that I wasn't. But whatever it was, I want a chance to try. I know I can be what you need, Melinda. I have to be. Because what _I_ need is you."

And then her mouth was on Melinda's, a kiss every bit as sincere as her words. It was so gentle, so undemanding and so very much what Melinda had needed for so long that she couldn't even think of pulling away. Instead, she kissed back, deepening the embrace and drinking in the softness of Natasha's mouth, her sure and steady hands at Melinda's waist, the way they fit against each other so perfectly that it felt as if they were meant to meld like this.

"Fury wants your answer by tomorrow." It was just a whisper against Melinda's mouth, but it was enough to pull her back into reality.

"Then maybe you should go away and let me think."

"You're sure?" There was fire in Natasha's eyes, and Melinda has no doubt about what she was offering. But she was also offering something else, and, in all honesty, it was possible that Melinda wanted that even more.

"I'm sure."

Natasha nodded, and Melinda was sure that she was the only one who would be able to tell how hard the Russian woman was struggling to hold herself together. 

She called out one more time before Natasha could shut the door behind her. "I really will, you know. I'll think about it."

Natasha inclined her head, an elegant gesture. "спасибо."

"пожалуйста."

They exchanged one last look, and then Natasha was gone, leaving Melinda alone with several boxes full of the past few years.

And, possibly, a bag filled with her future.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for scrollgirl, who requested "a bit of angst and situations that create misunderstandings and barriers which the characters need to overcome in order to be together." This wasn't what I initially set out to write, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you're happy with the end result.
> 
> The title comes from Lord Byron's "When We Two Parted".
> 
> Translations from the Russian:
> 
> дорогая: sweetheart  
> да: yes  
> спасибо: thank you  
> пожалуйста: you're welcome


End file.
